


Love is an open (TARDIS) door

by texting_fangirl



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: (duh), Aromantic Reader, Asexual Reader, Companion!Reader, Cooking for the Doctor, Cooking with the Doctor, Crack Treated Seriously, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-neutral Reader, Happy Ending, Introducing the Master to Memes, No Sex, No Smut, Pancakes, Pasta, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Doctor needs a break, Slice of Life, Spoilers for Episode: s12e01 Spyfall Part 1, Spoilers for Episode: s12e02 Spyfall Part 2, Tags Contain Spoilers, The Master Has Issues, Travelling in the TARDIS (Doctor Who), Travelling with the Master, a mistake in front doors, a tiny bit of angst, but then again i guess pretty much everyone who's looking for fanfics has caught up already right, i should've put those tags more up front
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22939111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/texting_fangirl/pseuds/texting_fangirl
Summary: There's nothing quite like self-made pancakes to lure the Doctor with, and after all, travelling time and space can be incredibly exhausting, 'specially if you have humans to look out for.So on the rare occasion of the Doctor taking an afternoon off, life slows down to a tempo you're a lot more familiar with.
Relationships: The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/Reader, Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a word for the DW fandom in literal years but watch me sit down and watch it again and, as a result, fall heads over heels for Jodie Whittaker's Doctor.  
> Honestly, tf.
> 
> This was born as a way to test the waters again, I suppose, and also to sate my burning need for more domestic Doctor stuff as they're practically always running on the show (like srlsy slow down jfc everyone loves a slice of life ep once in a while eh).
> 
> God I love Jodie's Doctor so much.

* * *

The TARDIS whirred.

You looked up from the second-most top step of the short stairs leading from the console room into the greater depths of the ship. Taking the half-eaten red licorice into your right hand, you marked the page you were reading with your left.

“You know,-”

“Wha-?”

“I said, you know, it’s not supposed to make that noise.”

“Oh, I know!” Came the answer of the Doctor, from somwhere hidden on the other side of the circular control panel.

“Says here is an easy way to fix it: You just gotta-”

“What are you…?” And there she was, taking the steps up to where you sat two at a time until she plopped down one step above yours. “Is that the TARDIS manual?”  
Her voice rose towards the end, like it was something she hadn’t seen in quite a while and couldn’t really believe you’d dug up. Or was quite displeased about you finding and bringing it out here while masking it with curiosity; you couldn’t really tell.

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t know an awful lot about spaceships, or time machines, and especially not about spaceships that are also time machines but I was wondering about that noise that comes when you start it up.”She scooted a bit closer, peering over your shoulder into the yellowed pages littered in ink. “Where did you even find that.”She took the licorice that really didn’t taste much like licorice at all from your hand and bit a good chunk of it off. It was the last package of american sweets you’d picked up during your first trip, and their long endurance was likely to the fact they had been a great disappointment in both taste and texture.

Now you furrowed your eyes at the resident Time Lady.

“The library? Where else would I look?”

The warm light in the console room painted her eyes golden brown as she looked up from the magazine-esque manual she’d taken out of your lap. The red string of candy dangled from between her teeth.

“Found it in the library, eh.” Her gaze rose to the ceiling, and after another bite she, too, took the remainder of the candy in her fist. “Interesting. Wonder what you’re on about, there.”

“Come again?” You reached inside the package and took out another piece, chewing it somewhat listlessly. Someone had to eat it.

The Doctor swallowed the rest of her stolen piece and made grabby hands for more. You handed her two pieces. Cheek hollowed out by half of the first of the two, she tapped her heels against the stairs.

“Oh nothing, was just rambling again. Found anything yet?”

You took the manual back and rubbed a hand over your forehead.

“Yeah, as I said, it’s written here that if you-”

“That noise, I like that noise. It’s the brakes. I leave ‘em on, isn’t it a nice noise?” She grinned, chewing her second candy already.

“Ah.” You could feel the expression on your face falter a bit. “Well, in that case.”

“How far’d you read in that old thing anyways?” She leaned back a bit and you wordlessly passed her the entire pouch. Satisfied for now, she kept on munching.

“Uh, I’m about- Halfway through, I think. Lots of stuff I don’t really get, but some of it became a bit more clear when put in context.”

“Like what?”

You thumbed through the pages, trying to settle on an example.

“Can’t say right now, but-” You closed the manual briefly, looking up into the air. “-The rainforest oxygen thing, how the light of star that fuels the TARDIS is redirected to the rainforest so the trees have sunlight. Well, starlight, I suppose. That was a lot more complicated when I read it in here, but I understood that.”

You pointed a finger at the Time Lady who, chewing, raised an eyebrow approvingly.

“I do have some questions about the whole travelling aspect.”

You turned so you could lean your back against the hand railing while talking to the Doctor. She fished for another piece, seemingly having some trouble with the package design, but nodded enthusiastically to signal for you to go on.

“TARDIS is the acronym for ‘Time And Relative Dimensions In Space’, but- I can’t even begin to-” She paused mid-chew to observe how you struggled to put into words what had been brewing in your thoughts for some time now.

“Everything moves.” You began anew, leaning forward and using your hands to underline your words. “Space, moves, constantly. For example the solar system around Earth - the planets circulate around the sun, yes, but the sun isn’t stationary. She’s moving, too, through space, and her gravitational field pulls us along, right? Assuming we’d be on Earth right now, or elsewhere within that system.”

You probably weren’t, which was just another detail worsening the headache beginning to creep in. Although cautious, the Doctor nodded to affirm your words.

“So, if everything moves, always, then nothing is in the same spot twice. Like yes, the Earth rotates around the sun, but even after a full rotation we’re not back in the same spot, I mean, in relation to the sun, yes, but as the sun itself has moved through space, Earth is at an entirely new point in space, and thus, time, which makes space-time travel incredibly complicated and I really wonder how your species was able to build a machine that could not only travel extended lengths through this entire concoction, but also accurately navigate it?”

You had to pause to take a deep breath, but in that time the Doctor had leaned forward as well and put the almost empty package of sweets aside for now. She was still listening though, and what was possibly even better, seemed to understand exactly where you were going with this. Or at least could understand what you meant. Which was more than you’d hoped for already.

“So, the TARDIS, this, TARDIS, any TARDIS, is able to perform the mathematical and physical calculations necessary to accurately trace back or predict where each particle, planet and by extension, each continent, city and building was or is going to be and is able to navigate accordingly so as to safely drop its travellers onto the surface of the selected destination.”

The Doctor blinked, tongue coming out to sweep the remains of the sugary taste off her lips.

“Yes, that is- Very formally phrased but ultimately... Correct, yes.”

You looked at her, not really knowing how to progress from this.

“That is insane.”

“It’s science.” The hint of a smile came back to her face as she tilted her head slightly.

“Yeah but- That is an insane feat of technological evolution.”

“Yes? I know.”

The skin between her eyebrows began to crease slightly, as if she didn’t really get you, after all.

Faced with sudden lack of understanding after just having been under the impression that your mildly jumbled rambling had not fallen on deaf ears was quite a bit of a setback, and you turned back towards the console in the middle to gather your thoughts a little.

The Doctor sniffed and you heard the plastic crinkle as she pushed it further away before slipping down a step and shuffling even closer to you, her coat bunching between you and her thigh.

“Everything alright? Did I say something wrong?”

You felt her fingers brushing through the hairs by your temple, and involuntarily twitched back. Immediately afterwards you searched for her eyes, to say you hadn’t meant to, but the apology got stuck in your throat.

“It’s a lot.” You confessed, sliding the manual into her lap.

The Doctor smiled lightly, gingerly placed it behind her, close to the candies, before focusing her entire attention on you again.

You noticed how both her palms were pressed together between her knees and had your heart sinking down into the area of your belly button.

“Maybe… Try not thinking about it so much, hm?”

Her voice wasn’t condescending, wasn’t coddling. Troubled, you met her eyes again.

“It’s just… I can’t… There’s so much difficult machinery at work here, it’s incredible.”

A low ‘dong’ reverberated through the panels that made up the floor, somewhere deep down.

The Doctor stared between her shoes, smile widening. “Oh, I get it now.” She said quietly, as if to herself. The light painted shadows under her eyes.

Then, directed at you, she regarded you with a warm look. “Be careful, hm? Human minds are so easily over-worked, especially by stuff like this.”

She bumped the side of her knee into yours. “Don’t get too caught up in the finer details. Even I don’t understand everything that’s going on all the time. Wouldn’t be half as fun otherwise.”

“I guess.” You gave in, shoulders hanging and head drooping.

“Hey, that not enough for you? To know you were right?”

Her tone was lighter, almost mocking now, but the expression on her face still careful, still cautious.

“No, you’re right, I suppose. It’s just- It’s a big thing, and I don’t want to seem like I’m just taking it for granted, you know?”

Her smile only widened.

“I’m pretty sure noone here is doubting that.”

You could see her resolve crumbling and didn’t object as she reached out and ruffled your hair; Instead squinting your eyes close and smiling.

The candies were a good deal to her left and you had to lean over her lap to reach them.

“You said not even you know everything that’s going on?” You grinned and bit into a string of gummy.

The Doctor rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh.

“No, I do not.” She admitted, lifting her finger to your face. “But most of the time, I do! Even if I might have not finished school.”

“When you say ‘school’, do you mean an institution that is similar to human’s idea of school or is it just the term that comes closest to making me understand what you’re referring to?”

She gasped, glaring at you.

“You really need to get out more and stop asking these questions! A thousand years in time and space and I’ve never met anyone who’s first wish to travel anywhere they could was a candy store in the United States of America, and who wonders about Gallifrey’s educational system! I really don’t understand what’s going on inside there.” She gently tipped her finger against the front of your forehead.

You turned your head, having heard an echo of some sort just a corner down from where you sat now.

“Sorry to disappoint.” You awkwardly grinned, looking back from the empty corridor.

“I never said that.” She crossed her legs, the alleviated foot bobbing up and down. “It never ceases to amaze me how different all of your are. But I think I understand why the TARDIS let you find her manual; This bit of thinking more than what you should… That’s nice.”

It felt like she had wanted to say something else and thought better of it at the last moment, but you didn’t hold it against her.

There was always something the Doctor wasn’t telling you, and if you had seen as much as her, you were sure you’d do the same.

It was a miracle on its own how the Time Lady had managed to keep sane and going on for so long, considering everything she must’ve been through.

“Pancakes?” You asked, then, and her eyes and mouth went wide with surprise and glee.

“Oh! Oh, yes, yes yes please! You make the best pancakes!”

* * *

She skipped ahead on your way out of the console room, through the front doors and into the small apartment you were renting.

“Pancakes!” She cried, throwing open the doors and vanishing into the sun-flooded room.

“Hey, can we go grocery shopping in the US again some time? Those flaming hot cheetos were _really_ tasty.”

Her blonde head was already stuck into the fridge, but she resurfaced at your words.

“Of course! Do you want to go right now?”

You shut the tap off and dried your hands.

“I thought you wanted pancakes right now.”

She moved aside to let you take out everything you needed from the fridge, ever so helpfully closing the door behind you.

“I do want pancakes.” She pouted, sliding into one of the chairs.

“Can you help me weight the ingredients?”

And she was up on her feet again, eyes glinting and hands already reaching for the cupboard.

You caught her wrist, and now it was her who flinched slightly.

“-But first, take off your shoes, hang you jacket and wash your hands. Who knows what you track around on that skin of yours.”

She jutted out her bottom lip but begrudgingly did as you told her.

* * *

“I helped make pancakes!” She squealed, a good hour later.

The first two of the batch were placed on your plate, looking a bit more unsightly than the rest, but three of the more well-rounded looking ones were piled on the Doctor’s plate across from yours, and her cheeks were rosy and her eyes glistening with pride.

You took a sip from your glass.

“You know, I thought for someone who’s been around this long, you’d surely have picked up how to feed yourself and your companions adequately.”

She hummed through a mouth full of pancake and maple syrup.

Under some difficulties, she swallowed.

“Maybe I did! But maybe I enjoy seeing people happy doing what they’re good at.”

“I expected worse,” You admitted, finally taking a taste of your work. “You could have burned down the kitchen.”

The Doctor scrunched her nose.

“Maybe my second-last regeneration. He was quite clumsy. I’m not.” At your glare, she didn’t close her mouth after finishing her sentence and after not much of a break, added: “-As clumsy as him.”

You laughed and dug in.

* * *

“I wonder what they were like.”

“Hm?” She looked up from the random book she’d picked from your shelf, a yellowish paperback with ornaments on the edges and a stylistic unicorn at the front.

“Your past regenerations, I mean.” You looked at her, sat side to side on the sofa that could’ve comfortably housed three and a half people. Three people and a dog.

“Hmm…”

“Did you ever go back and pretend to be your own companion?”

“What is it with you today?” She looked you up and down, a finger on the page she’d been reading. “All these questions and wonderings! What are you up to?”

You lifted your hands in surrender.

“I don’t know! Mercy, please. I was just thinking, I mean, if you change your entire body... “

She placed the book on the table and her head on your shoulder.

“It doesn’t quite… work like that.” Her voice was calmer now. “We Time Lords… Ladies, I always get it wrong… We’re quite different from humans. We don’t look like it, but we are. We can sense each other. We can recognize the other, most of the time. So if I were to go back to myself, not only would that mess with my timeline-” You snorted softly, and she nudged her elbow into your side. “-But also I would recognize myself quickly. Also, wouldn’t that be weird, more than one of me in the same place?”

You could only lift your shoulders so far without disrupting her spot on it.

It was quiet for a while. Outside the wind pushed clouds over the sky like chess pieces.

“Are there others like you out there?” Your voice was smaller, both afraid of asking the question and getting an answer. “Time Lords, and Ladies, I mean… You love to travel so much, do you have any Time Lord friends you meet up with on sundays? Have a cuppa, talk about the latest gossip?”

The blonde on your shoulder stayed quiet, which was fairly unusual. “Doctor?”

She mumbled something incoherently at hearing her name called but didn’t react further.

Something tugged on your heart as you held her face with one hand, carefully letting her down until she was lying across the spot you’d been sitting in.

There was no way to tell how old she was, how old she really was, even if you didn’t know how old the face she was wearing now was, either.

But you had seen the skin growing darker under her eyes over the past days, had noticed the increasing difference between being overly fidgety and then quiet and more reclusive.

Here, on your couch, with her socks threatening to slip down her ankles, and her suspenders pushed off her shoulders; With her coat hung by the door and her shoes neatly placed below, she could’ve also been a friend after a rough week at work.

Nothing indicated her extra-terrestrial origins, if one looked past the big blue box parked somewhat haphazardly on the edge of the carpet, barely squeezing in between the couch and the door to the hallway.

You unfolded one of the blankets you kept draped over the back of your sofa and tucked the sleeping Time Lady in, combing the blonde hairs away from her face. She snuggled in deeper, lips moving but no words your ears could pick up coming out.

Not making a single sound you stole away, bringing the plates into the kitchen and deciding to clean your bedroom again. It had been a while.

* * *

You had no idea how long Time Lords and Ladies rested, or needed to sleep once they did.

The double hearts system that the Doctor had told you about a while ago suggested faster metabolism, which would also explain why the Doctor was constantly snacking on things left and right, but you’d never really seen her sleep.

While taking little souvenirs and trinkets off their shelf and wiping it off with a dust cloth, you made a mental note to try scouring the TARDIS’ library on books about Time Lord physiology. While pinning the metaphorical note to the ever-crowded pinwall somewhere to the back-left of your brain you had to think back on a Lord of the Rings post you’d came across on Pinterest months ago, about how elves could keep running for weeks before they ultimately crashed and went out cold for three days of sleep that nothing could rouse them of.

Maybe Time Ladies were similar. Maybe the Doctor would sleep for the next days until she’d spring up, all fizzing energy and sparkling eyes again, tugging you off to another adventure.

Would she get a sleep-hangover? Complete with bed head, swollen eyes and a startling lack of hand-eye-coordination after such a long nap?

* * *

As it turned out, her sleep would not last as long as a headcanon about elves from The Lord of the Rings, as you were forced to realize over cooking dinner.

The noodles were almost good to be put on plates, complete with the sauce you’d cooked out of what was left in the fridge, when a crash from the living room and a slurred call of your name interrupted the otherwise serene mood.

Outside rain pattered against the glass, but the Doctor’s shout for you drowned that out. The door to the living room opened under your hand and you came face to face with an obviously distressed Doctor.

“Oh thank Rassilon you’re okay!”

She fell forward and over you, and it was all you could do when you took a small step back to brace her sudden weight, and lift your hands to her back to answer the hug she’d swallowed you with.

“Yes? Doctor, of course I am. We came to my flat to have pancakes earlier, remember? Dinner is about to be ready.”

She pulled back and pressed her forehead against yours, eyes shut, and lips in a tight line. Her palms were still switching places, running over your back and arms and sides of your face and throat, as if she couldn’t be sure it really was you until she’d checked.

“Doctor.” You trapped her hands by their wrists, held them over your heart. “I’m okay. You’re okay. Nothing is after us. You’re okay.”

“Okay… Okay..” She repeated, eyes still a bit glazed as alternating looking into both of yours. “I’m… okay.” It didn’t sound like she believed you fully, but it was enough to occupy her mind for now as she swam towards full consciousness. “I’m… In your flat, I’m okay.”

She cleared her throat.

“I made pasta.” You took a step back, to bring some distance, but she followed your movement, a hand of hers catching the hem of your shirt and tugging at it like a child.

“Don’t leave, please. Don’t leave me, please. You’re one of the best.”

“And I’m sure you’re not telling any other companion that, ever.”

She let you disentangle her hand from your shirt, and let you sit her down across the table.

She watched you, yawning widely, as you split the pasta in two and gave her the slightly larger serving.

“Bon appetit.”

She squinted at you. “Are you french? I don’t remember. I don’t think I’ve spoken french in the last hundred years? -Maybe it’s the language filter, I really need to get that check-”

“Doctor, food.” You reminded her, a fork full of noodles pointing at her plate.

“Hm? Oh! Oh, pasta! Great!” She paused. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

* * *

She yawned after finishing the slightly overdue cup of pudding, sleepily blinking up at you as you stepped next to her, put a hand on her shoulder.

"Do you still need more sleep? How long does this go on?"

"Hmmhm…" She slung an arm around your middle and tugged you close enough so she could mush her face into your stomach. "Hmm… I should've… Should've really taken better care of m'self." Another yawn. "Us Time… Folk… Can go a long way yknow? Um… Tomorrow.. I'll be good s new."

"You need to brush teeth, Doctor. I'll pick out some pyjamas for you."

* * *

A Sleepy Doctor was one of the most cooperative, you found.

Clothed in a slightly big shirt and some clean boxershorts she fell into bed, having used a brand-new toothbrush you'd dug up from the bottom of the bathroom mirror.

The bed wasn't really large enough for two people and you were still mentally preparing to spend the night on the sofa.

"I flossed!” She told you proudly while you unnecessarily smoothed out wrinkled in the bedsheet.

“That’s very good. Being a true role-model, you are.”

Her tone changed from pride to something quieter with the next words.

“You're gonna stay, right?" Her breathing had sped up, the grip on your hand surprisingly strong. "You won't leave. Right? Don't leave me. Don't…"

With a sigh you gave in and swung up your legs, clicking off the lamp.

"Move over a little, won't you?"

She made room enough to fit you on the mattress, but as soon as you settled down you felt the warmth by your side.

"'S cuddling 'kay?"

"Yes, of course Doctor."

Her hand snaked over your stomach, a leg hooking over yours.

She slid closer until her entire front was pressed against your side.

If you kept real quiet you could hear her heartbeats.

Dun-dun-dun-dun.

Dun-dun-dun-dun.

Four beats, exactly fitting themselves between yours.

"Sleep well, Doctor."

Her breath, fanning over your jaw, evened out.

* * *

The rolls were so fresh they were still warm in the paper bag, and you made sure not to accidentally squish the croissants.

You'd skipped the coffee or tea, still having plenty at home and not even knowing what the Doctor preferred.

Halfway back to your flat your eyes happened to fall into an alley, a strange shape rising between two big dumpster.

The familiar blue made you stop.

Had the Doctor woken sooner than expected?

When you had left the bed this morning she'd still been fast asleep.

Your key got stuck.

"Aw c'mon, don't be like that. I brought breakfast! Here, it's still warm. Did the Doctor decide to-" The door opened outwards and you pocketed your key.

The sun shone in your back, dipping the inside of the TARDIS in darkness.

You turned on your spot and gently pulled the door closed behind you.

The breath to call for the Doctor was still entering your lungs as you faced the control panel.

Your gaze found another across the top of it; Thick, bushy brows twitching together as the dark eyes beneath them flickered from you to the door behind you.

Body frozen in place, the only thing you could do was say

“Fuck.”

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was supposed to be crack, it was _supposed_ to be **crack** and now.  
> and now......

* * *

For a very long short moment neither of you moved.

You stood rooted to the spot, arms full with the paper bags, and mind utterly blank at what to do.

There was some brain activity of course, mainly “Oh fuck, oh fuck, _oh fuck_ ” and “You really gotta get outta here” but also blank panic that you fought against with every beat your heart did.

Move, you told yourself, move!

“-Terribly sorry, wrong door. Have a lovely day.” The thing on your face was a grotesque mask of a smile but you still managed it, doing your best to not show just how much the recent turn of events was affecting you.

Every hair on your body rose as you turned your back to the control panel and faced the door again, just a single step away, so close, so, so close-

With your hand on the handle you heard the snap of fingers behind you and in almost the same moment the mechanical clicking of the door under your palm locking.

You were trapped.

And _so_ fucked.

TARDISses were big. You knew the Doctor’s was incredibly vast in its many hallways and rooms, only having explored a fracture of them all on the space-adventure-equivalent of a rainy day, and now that vastness seemed like the only option to evade the Time Lord currently stalking around the console and towards you. You only hoped his TARDIS wouldn’t rat you out, should you even manage to get that far.

He seemed to pick up on your thoughts, or maybe you had stared the fracture of a second too long into the direction of the hallway that would lead away from the control room and into something you would only hesitantly call ‘safety’, but either way he rounded the circular panel on the side closer to said opening.

Not wanting to get caged against the now very much closed door, you yourself began to move, as well, first along the wall and then closer to the panel, to prevent the Time Lord to fully round it and cut both your way around the panel and into hallway, off.

He paused before you both moved enough so that the opening in the wall would be accessible to you.

“How did you get in here?” He narrowed his eyes, right hand curling and unclenching where it rested on a switch.

“As-” You glanced ruefully at the door, not letting go of the Master’s sight out of the corners of your eyes. “-I said before, I walked into the wrong door and am incredibly sorry to bother you. If you just pop that lock back open I’ll be on my merry way, and no-” He had started moving clockwise around the console and you hurried to do the same to keep out of arm’s reach.

“You should really think about changing the look of your ship, you know, this entire ‘blue box’ spiel isn’t really applicable to the masses, if you know what I mean.” You cleared your throat and peered over the console, wary of the distance between you and him. He had stopped again, to not allow you to get too close to a possible escape.

A snarl spread on his face but he twisted his head sideways, stretching his neck. An angry crease appeared between his eyebrows.

“I should’ve known one of the Doctor’s _pets_ would mistake my ship for that useless piece of scrap metal. The chameleon circuit gets stuck **one time** and what does it have to get a hang on? A damn police box. As if a malfunctioning circuit wouldn’t be-”

He caught himself, with both hands on the panel in front of him, his glare rising to meet your face, which you attempted to keep mostly unassuming while still clutching the cooling rolls.

“...Right. So you didn’t intentionally mask your TARDIS as the Doctor’s TARDIS in hopes to lure her in here and then keep her trapped and do some-” You wanted to say games, you really did, it was the first association you’d come up with but it just felt _wrong_. Spontaneously deciding to switch sentences seemed like a good enough idea. “I gotta admit, that would’ve been some galaxy-brain-level shit, honestly.”

The crease between his eyebrows lessened, but his eyes narrowed. Was that confusion?

“You know, like the meme?”

The Time Lord’s head twitched to the side. It was minimal but the resemblance to a dog that had just been asked something and didn’t understand a lick of it was uncanny.

“You… know what a meme is, right?”

He stayed silent and you had to seriously battle a laugh back down. This was absurd.

“How did you get in here. Last time I ask.” His voice won in volume, but the louder it got the more obvious the slight undertone of confusion got.

You were balancing the two bags on one arm and had slipped out your phone with the other hand. The door to the outside world wasn’t even ten meters away but the ship surrounding you seemed to swallow any and all reception of a signal.

“Does you TARDIS has Wi-Fi?” You asked, raising a brow at the Time Lord. “Memes are best enjoyed crispy, and hot, and you only get that on the Internet, is why I’m asking. I do have some saved ones, too, if you fancy that.”

“Wh-”

“Oh, yeah, no, the getting in here part? Amigo you better ask your ship about that because, by all means, I shouldn’t have been able to get in here and if I can walk through- no, if those doors open for someone like me, you should be rethinking what your ship is going on about.”

Saying that this tactic could’ve gone two distinct ways, and that you were relieved to see the Master, rightfully so, stare up at the ceiling of his TARDIS in annoyance in favour of pulling a sword out of nowhere and hacking you to bits would’ve been an understatement.

“Oh, you **do** have Wi-Fi! It just showed up, great.”

“Don’t.” He warned, voice a low growl, but when you risked a glance up to where he stood, he wasn’t looking at you.

He was still staring at the ceiling, scowl intensifying, and apparently distracted, you attempted to creep towards the door or the hallway.

His head snapped around and you froze, retracing your steps back and then keeping on moving, as if that had been your intention all along, and not a poorly constructed attempt at fleeing.

How long would it take for the Doctor to wake up? Surely too long to come rescue you herself. A glum feeling spread in your stomach.

“Are you hungry, by chance?” You really didn’t know where this cheery, preppy, chatty persona had come from to take over for you, but if it helped you get out of this mess - you weren’t one to complain. “It’s just, if we’ll stay in here for a while I doubt I’ll get this breakfast delivered any time soon and it’d be a shame to waste a perfectly fine croissant. Don’t you think?”

He was still glaring at you but seemed to have lost the non-verbal argument with his TARDIS because your phone had now Wi-Fi access and he looked more done than angry.

Maybe it was imagined, maybe not, but the lines etching into the skin around his eyes seemed more like those of weariness instead of anger.

You didn’t think he would actually take the croissant you held out to him, over the middle of the console, but he did, biting into it and looking miserable chewing it.

With a groan, he vanished from view. If you stood on your toes you could still see the top of his black hair, though.

Unsure of what to do, you stayed where you were, thumb hovering over the phone app. If you would have had a landline you could have called that, hope the sound would be loud enough to wake the Doctor. But you didn’t, and didn’t have the number of the Doctor’s TARDIS either, and so that option was out.

“What is… a Meme?” Came the voice of the Master, drained of energy and much less intimidating than before.

“Um… It’s… It’s a lot easier to show than explain, really.”

“Show me, then.”

Hesitantly you rounded the console, stopping an arm’s length from the Master. The man looking up at you now had so little in common with the angered Time Lord from before; it was scary.

It was like looking exhaustion into its face.

Knowing it might be a ruse to lull you into safety, you crossed your legs and sat down, putting the bags between you and him.

Opening an app on your phone, you began to scroll.

The paper rustling briefly diverted your attention, and you looked up in time to see the Master reaching for one of the rolls, biting into it as well.

“Here’s one.” You clicked on the image to enlarge it before turning your phone around so the Master could see.

There were three images on your screen, portraying a goofy looking husky. The first one had the text “Why shouldn’t you fart in an Apple store?” on it, then there was the second with “Because they don’t have windows!” and then finally just an image of the same dog, visibly amused.

The hooded gaze got stuck on the second part and he stopped chewing.

“It’s less of a meme and more of a pun, but still, you get the idea.”

He looked up into your eyes. If you had been standing up you would have taken a step back, but sat on the floor, didn’t move.

If he found it amusing he didn’t show it.

You waited a moment longer, until the tension was definitely building, before retracting your phone and scrolling on.

“Ah, and here, that’s the one I was referencing, the galaxy brain. See?”

It was said meme, but a dog edition. The first image was labelled ‘Barking at the Postman’, and it got progressively worse. It ended on ‘Barking at absolutely nothing’

The Master stared at it.

“D’you get it? ‘Cause… Dogs bark all the time.”

His eyes lifted to meet yours and he blinked once.

You offered your palm, silently asking for your phone back, but the Time Lord seemed unable to comply. Somewhere in the back of your mind you thought ‘If this was a crack video of a TV Show, they’d freeze-frame his face and play the windows shutdown sound now’.

“Or, to make it simpler; If you were attempting to catch the Doctor for, whatever purpose, it‘d start with you setting a moderately well-thought out trap, then the second would be… y’know, and then it would end with you, disguising your TARDIS as the Doctor’s TARDIS so the Doctor thinks she’s getting into her TARDIS when it’s really yours and then you snap your fingers and boom, you got the Doctor where you wanted her.”

At last your phone was handed back to you, but the Time Lord didn’t continue eating the roll he’d placed on his thigh. He didn’t continue glowering at you, either. He covered his face with his hands and exhaled slowly.

“Memes aren’t only pictures though. Here, that’s one of my favourite Vine compilations, maybe that’s more your thing.”

* * *

The rolls were gone and the tiny clock in the corner of your phone read two hours later, and still the Master was staring at your phone, comprehending the short videos flashing over it.

After the ‘Damn, Daniel’ Vine he had muttered “Humans.” in a tone you couldn’t quite place, but which wasn’t entirely deragoratoy, so you counted that as a win.

He squinted at the screen, rubbed a hand over his face. Blinked, repeatedly.

"Hey…" You brushed a few crumbs together and piled them on one of the empty bags. The Time Lord had eaten all of the three croissants and the four rolls, but the hunger in his eyes didn't seem to be for more food.

The dark eyes blinked up to you, one slower than the other. "How long haven't you slept?"

You saw how his teeth ground together. He blinked again.

"I'm locked in here, remember? Who am I gonna tell, your TARDIS? Bet she knows already."

His tongue darted out of his mouth, touching his lips.

You held the eye-contact.

He closed his eyes briefly, and when he reopened them he wasn't looking at you anymore but straight ahead.

"Can't remember. Memory starts getting fuzzy, you know, after- after-" He tilted his head this and that way, waving his hand.

You nodded.

"The circuit keeping you up?"

He laughed, for the first time, but it was short and without humour."You have no idea."

"Enlighten me."

"Why would I."

"I'm here and have no way of going anywhere. You made sure of that."

The grin the laugh had left morphed into a snarl.

"And have you running back to the Doctor and tell her all my dirty little secrets eventually?" He rose, towering over you but slightly swaying in his spot. His hand found the control panel next to him, knuckles pushing at his skin. "Get up."

He stared down on you a moment longer, waiting for you to comply, but you only wiped down your pants and obeyed after his chest lifted with the intake of air to repeat his command.

"Alright. Where to?"

His tongue hollowed out his cheek as he sized you up, stretching his neck.

You had no idea how long a Time Lord could go without sufficient rest, but from the way the Doctor conked out after a couple days of hardly changing cheeriness, he must've been really pushing at it. What a coincidence of them both getting sleepy a block apart within the span of 24 hours.

"Forward."

His voice was gravel and you began moving.

* * *

The room - it looked more like a room than a cell - was quite spacious. You turned around in it fully, giving everything a good look before your eyes came back to the form stood leaned against the frame.

One arm up pushed against the opposite site, the rest of his body slumped to the wall.

In the different light the circles underneath his eyes were even darker than before.

"Any estimation on how long my sentence will last?" You put a hand up on your hip, raising your brows.

The smile, devoid of any of the warmth that the Doctor's always held, spread on the Master's face.

He held up your phone, showing it off to you, then carelessly cast it behind himself.

"Life-long, my dear."

The door slid shut.

* * *

There was no way to tell the time.

Two windows on the wall opposites the one with the door changed in brightness, but you knew better than to expect them to show anything from the outer hull. At this point it was unlikely you were still on Earth.

Other than the Doctor's TARDIS, who carried a homely, comfy vibe both in feeling and furniture, this one had a more futuristic feel to it - or maybe it was just this room.

The bed, table, chair and cupboard that folded out of near-seamless parts of the wall would have put the Enterprise to shame. Any of them.

The light grey colour everything was in added a clinical touch.

There was nothing in here, the mattress aside.

Your jacket, thrown over the chair, and your shoes, orderly stood next to the door, looked comically out of place.

In a way, this was nice, you mused, staring at the ceiling that would not budge anywhere (you'd tried). Just… waiting, instead of running, or being hunted, or…

The windows were most likely remote controlled, there was no panel below or beneath them (you'd also checked).

Oxygen came through a pipe above the door, through a discreet hatch, not large enough to fit more than a hand into it. That was, it probably would; the cover wouldn't move.

In an effort to pass the time you'd started talking to the TARDIS.

It was likely due to her not knowing you yet, but she was decidedly less communicative than the Doctor's. Wisely, you didn't tell the ship that.

You felt around the last remaining, smooth part of the wall, wondering out loud if there was a way to an ensuite bathroom here somewhere.

"It would greatly- benefit me." You stood up straight, putting your hands on your hips. "And you, for that matter. I mean, you have a sewer system, right? If there'd be a link to it, it would increase hygiene in here and- you know, it really just would be a win for everyone."

No reply.

Your eyes unfocused on the blank wall.

"Wonder how old you are, hm. How much of the universe you've seen? What planets you've taken that Time Lord of yours."

No reaction again, but some of the hostility in the back of your neck subsided.

You smiled.

"I'm _______ _______. It's such a pleasure to meet you." You looked at the ceiling, smile widening.

The moment of reverie was interrupted by the door sliding open and the reappearance of the resident alien.

He looked even more dishevelled than before.

"You," He slurred, blinking heavily. He pointed at you but the imbalance of his second hand holding him steady to the one swinging in your direction threw him off. He stumbled a step closer to you before his palm smacked back against the frame and he swayed on the spot. He was breathing heavily.

"You." He repeated. Something plucked his attention from you to elsewhere, and his eyes left you. His neck popped as he stretched it, pressed his eyes shut and groaned.

Abruptly he turned, almost tripped on his way into the hallway.

Breathless, you waited.

Two, three steps thundered down the corridor but the door stayed open.

"Thank you." You whispered to the TARDIS, touching a palm to the frame as you passed.

The Time Lord was only a few paces ahead and you were careful to keep your distance. He kept muttering, hissing at himself, and more than once crashed into the wall before he maneuvered himself through the opening that led into the control room, speeding up at the lack of apparently expected resistance.

He was leaning on the console as you entered, overcoat missing and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Was he…?

He rolled his head and flicked a lever.

"Good grief..." It escaped you in a whisper. You closed the distance, taking his place as he stumbled to the side.

The panels under your hands were entirely unfamiliar. Not that you had had much experience with that. It was the Doctor flying her ship, or her TARDIS letting herself be flown by the buzzing alien, but even after hours upon hours of looking at the many different levers, buttons, dials and switches you would have been at a loss of what to do if asked to operate it.

Dread began to rise as you observed the sheer randomness with which the Time Lord worked across the console, even more maddening than the dance the Doctor performed.

The tip of your finger rubbed over the lever the Master had turned first.

It was more a subconscious feeling than rational thinking that prompted you to lift it.

Bloodshot brown eyes met yours.

"Hands off." He growled.

You looked down, blinked as a haze of gold tinted your field of vision.

"Are you deaf?"

You didn't look up. Felt it inside your head; a vast presence, barely there, and then clearer, a mental image of the controls.

It differed from how the panels looked as of now, and you began to correct the mistakes the careless - mildly incapacitated - Time Lord had made in his attempt to steer.

With each dial you turned, with every step you took, it became easier, your hands working faster.

"Move, please." You mumbled, squeezing between the Master and the console, completing a full circle around it.

"You can fly a TARDIS."

It wasn't a question, and then it was.

"No," You briefly looked up at him, still working the knobs. "Not really."

The wheezing sound stabilized, rang loud in the small room. Without looking away from his flickering gaze, you flipped a switch. The sound fell silent.

The two thick eyebrows lowered.

His mouth opened, but before he could articulate any more thoughts, his eyes rolled into his head and he collapsed.

A step to the side was enough to not have his head collide with your socked feet, but you winced at the loud clang his skull did when it met with the floor.

"Hm."

Subtle snoring could be heard. You tapped your foot a couple times, looking around the room. The shadows still looked less defined than usual. The golden shine hadn’t left your vision completely.

"Can't just leave him here, now, can I."

A sigh fell from your lips. Resolutely, you grabbed his ankles and began to pull.

"Thank you, so much, for saving all our lives just now." You spoke again, directed at the TARDIS. The hallway came into view and your muscles began to protest. The stout man was heavier than expected.

"Does he have a room?" You let his legs down to straighten your back out. "If he does, could you… I want to put him in bed, god knows how long he went without sleep… Well, no, not god, but you must know. If you could make the way there a little shorter, I would be… I would be very grateful."

Twenty metres to the right a door opened and warm light fell in the corridor.

"Thank you." You breathed, bending to pick his legs up again. "Thank you. Thank you."

* * *

His room seemed almost identical to yours, concerning the windows and furniture, but that was where the similarities ended.

The bedding, which you focused on first, was royal blue with silver and gold stitching, circles and dots painting words your brain could half-decipher, with the remains of the psychic connection to the TARDIS still intact. You kept your eyes off of them.

The vest went first, then his shoes. You debated on the dress shirt, but found he was wearing an undershirt and so took the deep blue button down away.

The tartan pants got stuck around his hips but you tugged mercilessly and freed their owner of them as well.

The comforter was big enough that you could drape it over him without needing to roll him off of it, and so you did.

He didn't budge.

For the first time since coming in you looked around.

The same markings that adorned his bedsheets were scrawled with many different pens across the walls, mixed with other languages. Books, scripts and fabrics were strewn around, boxes and even a barrel wedged in between the other, foldable furniture.

Blueprints covered the space around the bed and you were glad to not be wearing shoes and having accidentally left a footprint on something likely priceless. The entire space could use some order.

"Look at me. Kidnapped and all I can think about is housekeeping."

Returning to your room seemed a little dull as opposed to staying out longer, even if it meant picking up spreadsheets of compartments and things you didn’t want to understand.

Following a stray thought that you had the feeling wasn't your own, you peeked your head into the hallway and found a plastic basket pushed against the wall.

"Thank you." You said again, and began to collect all the loose clothing strewn around the space.

It was mostly button downs in various fabrics and styles, but one set of what looked more like belonging into a retired archaeologist’s wardrobe was among the pile as well.

The papers that covered every surface large enough for them you didn't dare touch, only picking up the ones that had fallen to the floor or had been left in untidy piles.

You winced at the creases in some of the plans and tried your best to smooth them out.

It only worked so much.

Out in the hallway you turned and looked at the Time Lord sleeping in his bed.

"Look at him," You mused, the basket on your hip. "Looks almost harmless like that, eh..."

There were doors left and right as you moved down the hallway, but none of them had obvious ways to open them. No panels to scan palms or retinas, no button to press, nothing.

"You don't say much… But then again, I doubt the Master is a pleasant companion, at times. I mean, I can't judge him, I only know the sleep-deprived version of him, but if those mood-swings are anything to go by, whew. You deserve an award for officially being the space-and-time-ship that puts up with the most™ stuff. And I've travelled with the Doctor for some time, so believe me when I say your job is infinitely more tiring. Presumably, of course. Ah."

Another door had opened at your approach, and a fully equipped laundry had appeared.

"Wonderful, thank you."

It seemed an awful lot like the one your parents had at home, but you decided against questioning that. Like this, at least there wouldn’t be any difficulty getting it to work.

Soon the load was spinning in soapy water, and you sat back, satisfied.

* * *

"You're fitted with some really cool stuff. Look at you, being all futuristic and stuff." 

The light grey was present throughout the entirety of the ship, even the bookshelves in the library had it.

There were forcefields in front of the bound papers that needed deactivating before you could take a volume out of its place, and you let the TARDIS know how thoughtful that was, especially when it came to turbulences or experimental flying techniques.

"This is so clever, saves so much time. No priceless first editions flying around, no mess… And also no dust on the shelves. I know I keep repeating myself but really, you're a state of the art ship. Others can only dream."

Weirdly energetic after putting the resident Time Lord to bed, you sat down in one of the small nooks with a stack of space and time ship manuals. There were a lot of questions you'd never asked the Doctor about her TARDIS, but since you had the time now, who was to say you couldn't catch up by yourself?

Halfway through "Intelligent Rainforest Filtration Systems designed for Multidimensional Travel Vehicles" you looked up and across the room.

Carefully you felt around the spot the psychic connection to the TARDIS had originated from, but the area was calm, undisturbed. If she was listening in on your thoughts, it was very subtle.

You lowered the book into your lap.

The realization of what this all meant finally caught up to you. For a moment you were paralyzed.

You couldn't go home.

Earth was who-knew-how-many light years away, if time didn't factor into it as well.

The only other occupant of this sentient spacecraft was a homicidal maniac the Doctor had only let you know about to warn you; whose faces you’d come across by accident during another long night of digging in the library, and the only way to escape would be to either find a way to pilot the TARDIS without letting her owner know, or breaking out and hoping to run into a regeneration of the Doctor wherever you were as of now.

Neither of those options looked appealing.

Only knowing the Master was out cold for at least the next few hours eased the terrible pressure building inside you. That, and the spaceship that had reached out to you, let you see how she had been needed to fly. She had reached out, unprompted by you, and even though she didn't answer when you spoke to her, that was something not to be forgotten.

Maybe there was hope.

There had to be.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i read thru the doc i have for this and was like, yeah okay this isn't too bad for a crack fic seeing how there's very few actually good crack fics out there that aren't hot garbage, but seeing as there are so few out there and i have even less experience writing this genre and then that fucking train wreck of a season finale happened...!  
> uh. anyways.  
> the notes i have for this fic made me sad. there wasn't much in this chapter, the Feels™ will come later (i guess), but. oof.  
> a fitting headline for this fic would be "Breaking News: Local Fanfic Author bites more off than they can chew! (Again! When will they stop??)  
> and the answer is, i don't know. fuck canon tho. i'm so tired.


End file.
